


A Little Cut

by blackat_t7t



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackat_t7t/pseuds/blackat_t7t
Summary: Mike cuts himself, but he thinks the injury is small enough that he can wait to see a doctor.





	A Little Cut

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from LiveJournal on 10/24/2018
> 
> original notes: wwritten for a prompt [here](http://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/2038.html?thread=2021878) at [](https://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/)**suitsmeme**  : While hurrying to leave for work one morning, Mike cuts his hand (very, very deeply) in the kitchen. He wraps it just enough to keep blood off his suit and leaves.The wound keeps bleeding (heavily) but Mike is so busy he doesn't really pay attention to it and just keeps adding bandages to it. Eventually Harvey catches on and basically manhandles him to the hospital.
> 
> This fic has been translated into Chinese! If you know Chinese and would like to read it in that language, please go [here](http://www.mtslash.com/viewthread.php?tid=25997&page=1&extra=#pid679394). You will need an mtslash account to see it, though.

 

Mike’s alarm clock must have run out of batteries during the night, because when he woke it was from the sunlight streaming through his window, and when he glanced at the clock he saw no numbers. Mike cursed under his breath and fumbled on his nightstand for his watch, holding it before his face when he found it. “Shit!” he hissed when he saw the time.

Mike launched himself out of bed and stumbled around his apartment in search of clothes. He found a shirt and jacket first and put them on, then located his pants and went into the kitchen with them. He pulled up his pants and tried to fasten them with his right hand while getting a coffee mug from the cabinet with his left. As he lifted the pants, his foot got tangled and he wobbled dangerously. Mike dropped the coffee mug and seized the counter to steady himself. He closed his eyes and groaned when he heard glass shatter. “Shiiiiit.”

Mike fastened his pants and knelt down to pick up the glass on the floor, trying to move as carefully but also as quickly as possible. He squeezed too hard on a shard of glass in his left hand, and gasped when he felt it slice into his skin, immediately dropping the shard. Mike turned his hand over to check the wound, and saw blood well up in his palm and spill down his wrist. Groaning in frustration, he picked up the glass with his right hand and tossed it in the sink, then grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it around his hand. He spared a fraction of a second to wrap duct tape around the towel, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. He didn’t have time to do any more; he needed to get to work.

 

 

Mike arrived at the office just in the nick of time, and breathed a sigh of relief as he set his briefcase on his desk. He glanced at his left hand, still wrapped up in the towel and tape. It twinged a bit, but it was only his left hand. He could work in spite of the injury, so it would have to wait until the end of the day before he could really look at it.

Mike opened his briefcase and pulled out the briefs still left from the night before. He set them down on the desk and went to work, going through them furiously without sparing a thought for anything else. It wasn’t until he’d finished with the papers and was making a trip to the bathroom that he even thought to look at his hand.

Mike saw from the corner of his eye that there was a red blotch on the white towel, and he carefully peeled off the duct tape and unwound the towel to look at the wound. It was deep, deeper than he’d thought, and it was still bleeding. Mike looked at his watch. It was only a few hours before the official end of the work day. Even though he usually didn’t leave the office until much later, he probably couldn’t be punished for leaving on time. He’d be able to stop by the ER then.

For the meantime, Mike tossed the rag into the trash can and grabbed a stack of paper towels from the dispenser. He pressed them to his hand and tried to tape them in place with the used strip. It wasn’t ideal, not enough to stop the bleeding, but once he was confident that he wouldn’t be dripping blood on his brief Mike was satisfied.

Mike went back to work, and kept it up for another couple hours. Every time the paper towels started to get soaked through, he would go to the bathroom and change them. Mike knew, intellectually, that blood loss was dangerous, but he told himself that it would only be a little longer before he could get to the doctor, and he could wait. So Mike ignored the pain in his hand, the nauseous feeling in his stomach, and the dizziness he sometimes felt when he stood to go to the bathroom and change the makeshift bandages. When he started to feel too sick to work, he would lay his head on his desk and rest for a few minutes. As soon as he felt better, he started working again.

It was during one of these little breaks that Harvey arrived to pick up some paperwork Mike had forgotten about. He jumped at the sound of Harvey’s voice, and realized that he must have fallen asleep. Harvey was talking, but Mike couldn’t quite make out the words. He raised his head with difficulty, and squinted up at Harvey. The other man was frowning at Mike, and it seemed like he wanted an answer to a question, but Mike hadn’t heard what he said. “Wha?” Mike mumbled.

Harvey opened his mouth and started speaking, but Mike still couldn’t hear the words. Harvey’s face swam before his eyes, and Mike couldn’t help but giggle at the distorted image. He saw Harvey scowl, but couldn’t keep from grinning. Mike’s head reeled, and he fell sideways out of his chair. Harvey reached for one of Mike’s flailing hands to catch him, and his hand closed around the wrist of Mike’s injured hand. Harvey’s eyes narrowed as he took in the bloodied paper towels and duct tape. Mike just grinned up at him from the ground.

“Mike,” Harvey said slowly, and Mike fought to catch his words. “How deep it this cut?”

Mike frowned at the question, trying to make sense of the words. He forced his mouth to work, forming his answer. “Deep.”

“You bled a lot?”

“Soaked a rag… lots of paper towels.” Mike heard Harvey curse, and then he was being hauled to his feet and the world tilted and spun. Mike groaned and slid from Harvey’s grip, clapping his good hand over his mouth as a bad taste rose in his throat. Harvey knelt next to him and shoved the cubicle trash can in his face, and Mike threw up into it.

When Mike was done, Harvey put one arm around his shoulders and the other under his legs, lifting him bodily from the ground. Mike moaned at the feeling, but his stomach was empty now. In a few quick strides Harvey brought Mike to his office.

“What’s wrong with him?” Mike heard Donna ask, her words sounding like they’d come from far away. “He looks… wilted.”

“Blood loss,” Harvey barked shortly. “I’m taking him to the hospital. Call Ray. Cancel all my appointments.” Donna nodded and quickly picked up the phone.

“He’s here,” Donna said moments later, and Harvey nodded and turned away. He carried Mike to the elevators, and then out to the waiting car. Mike’s head hung limply back, and he watched the office pass upside-down before his eyes, blurring and spinning. Mike might have laughed, if he hadn’t felt so sick.

Harvey loaded Mike into the back of the town car and told Ray to get them to the hospital as soon as possible. Mike groaned and blinked his eyes sleepily, struggling to keep them open. He fell sideways against Harvey as the car turned. Harvey wrapped an arm around his shoulders and stroked his hair soothingly. The touch was gentle, and Mike blinked sleepily. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, but Harvey shook his shoulder and kept him awake. “Stay with me, Mike,” he heard Harvey say. His voice sounded scared, which shocked Mike. He’d never heard Harvey’s voice filled with so much emotion. “Stay with me.” The fingers in Mike’s hair began to shake, or maybe that was just Mike getting disoriented.

The car pulled up in front of the hospital, and Harvey carried Mike inside. There was a great deal of shouting, most of which Mike couldn’t make out. He felt himself being loaded onto a stretcher and saw the ceiling rushing past above him. Doctors and nurses moved around him, shouting to one another. Mike heard something about O negative and thought he should tell them his blood type, but he couldn’t make his mouth work. That was alright; he couldn’t remember his blood type anyway. Under all of the shouting the one thing Mike could make out clearly was Harvey’s voice, murmuring softly in his ear. “I’m here, Mike. I’m here.” Fingers gripped his good hand tightly. Then another set of hands pushed those away, and Mike felt a jab of pain as a needle was put into his arm. The bright white ceiling grew darker before his eyes, and the sounds more dim in his ears, until he sank into blackness and silence.

 

 

Mike groaned and turned his head away from the light. He tried to roll over, but a tug on his hand prevented it. Mike blinked sleepily and lifted his head to squint at whatever was holding his arm. He saw Harvey in a chair pulled up to the edge of his bed, arms crossed on the side of it and head resting on his arms, asleep. One of his hands was gripping Mike’s tightly.

At Mike’s movement, Harvey began to wake. He moaned softly and his eyelashes fluttered, and Mike couldn’t help but think how adorable Harvey looked, groggy from sleep and with his hair mussed. Harvey lifted his head and looked at Mike, who smiled sheepishly back. He couldn’t believe he’d almost passed out at work. He wondered if Harvey thought he was weak, if Harvey was mad at him for not getting his work done, if he was fired for incompetence. But the fact that Harvey had rushed him to the hospital and stayed with him all night made Mike think that work was probably not one of the more urgent thoughts in Harvey’s mind and the moment.

“Never do that to me again,” Harvey said, his voice and expression grave. Mike nodded contritely and focused his eyes on the sheet over his body. Then suddenly Harvey was on his feet and wrapping his arms around Mike. Mike started in surprise, then slowly lifted his good hand to pat Harvey’s back. “I was so scared,” Harvey whispered against his hair. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Mike nodded against Harvey’s chest, too shocked to speak. He never would have expected Harvey to say something like that, least of all to him. Harvey cleared his throat awkwardly and started to pull back, but Mike gripped his shirt to hold him in place. “Stay?” he whispered.

Harvey’s arms settled back around Mike’s body. “Of course,” he said. They remained holding each other in silence for several moments, before Mike spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” Mike murmured. “It was stupid, and I should have just gone to the hospital first thing, but I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“I could never be disappointed by you taking care of yourself,” Harvey replied. “I just wish you’d realized that I would never want you to hurt yourself to make me proud.” Mike nodded into Harvey’s shirt again, feeling tears begin to leak from his eyes as he realized just how close he had come to dying. And all because he didn’t want to disappoint Harvey. God, that couldn’t be healthy.

Harvey pulled back, and this time Mike let him. Harvey sat back in his chair, his hands still on Mike’s shoulders, and gazed into his eyes. “I really care about you, Mike. I don’t want to see you do this to yourself ever again, do you hear me? If you’re hurt, or sick, or if anything whatsoever is wrong, just take the time off and go see a doctor if you need to. Just don’t scare me like this again.”

“I won’t,” Mike promised. Harvey nodded and lifted a hand to wipe the tears from Mike’s cheeks with his fingertips. It was a tender, intimate gesture that made Mike’s skin shiver. His eyes locked with Harvey’s, and slowly the other man leaned in to him, giving Mike every opportunity to pull back if he didn’t want it. But he did, God, he did.

Mike moaned softly when their lips finally met, despite it being a chaste and light kiss. His eyes fluttered shut and he wrapped his good hand around the back of Harvey’s neck, burying his fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened.

A whistle from the doorway shocked them apart, and both men turned to see Donna standing there with a bouquet of flowers, Rachel and Ray peering around her into the room. “Well, we came to tell you to get well, but it seems you’re already feeling much better,” Donna said as she brought the flowers into the room. She laid them on the little table by the bed and hugged Mike. “We were all worried. If you ever do something this stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.”

“I believe it,” Mike replied with a grin as his other guests piled into the room. They began asking questions, and Mike explained how he had injured himself and tried to patch it up, with some minor embellishments. Harvey held Mike’s good hand in his lap as Mike told his story.  
 


End file.
